


Pointe Shoes & Perfect Moments

by Im_trash_bye



Category: Andi Mack (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Ballet, Ballet, Bullying, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, F/F, First Kiss, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-14
Updated: 2019-06-13
Packaged: 2020-05-07 12:25:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19209394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Im_trash_bye/pseuds/Im_trash_bye
Summary: When the Grant High girls' basketball team comes to the School of American Ballet to study for a month, Lucy Kippen is less than thrilled. After all, she and her triplets worked harder than anyone else to get there, and now basketball players who don't know what the word fouetté means are being handed spots? The Kippens vow to stay far away from the team. Unfortunately, their plan is compromised by unwanted feelings and all too perfect moments.





	Pointe Shoes & Perfect Moments

“God, don’t we have to deal with that girls’ basketball team starting today?” Lucy asked, voice muffled by the bobby pins held between her teeth.

“Ugh, you’re right,” Amber huffed, rolling her eyes as she pinned her hair. “It’ll be fun to watch them fall during center, though.”

“I personally can’t wait for petit allegro with them.” Lucy shoved another pin into her hair. “Ready? Madame Pullman can and will kill if we’re late of the girls’ first day.”

“Yeah, I suppose this is as flat as it’ll go,” Amber said, frowning as she examined her hair.

“Turn around.” Lucy took the pins from Amber, carefully flattening her hair against her head and spraying them both with hairspray. 

“Pullman lets us wear warmups for barre, right?” Amber asked, grabbing her bag and water bottle. 

“Yep!” Lucy pulled on her shrug to emphasize her point, fixing the way her ballet skirt sat on her hips. “Shall we?”

“We shall.” They left their room together, jogging out of the dorms and across campus. Lucy held the door open for Amber, dropping it when she saw one of the basketball players rushing toward the building. It slammed with a resounding thunk. Amber and Lucy snickered as they turned left toward studio 107.

They dropped their bags on the floor of the studio, pulling on canvas flats and taking their rightful places at the front of the barre. They stretched and vaguely worked their way through several tendu exercises as students trickled into the classroom, including about 5 of the basketball players from Grant. The girl Lucy had dropped the door for made her way into the room as the Kippens watched her in the mirror. Madame Pullman entered the room at precisely 9:00 am, clapping to get the room’s attention.

“No warmups at the barre today, girls,” she said. “No grumbling, either. You came to the School of American Ballet to work, not to wallow in your comfortable clothing. I want you in flats and skirts. Now, please.”

The ballerinas all sighed, tossing their shrugs, leg warmers, and shorts toward their bags and swapping them for ballet skirts. The basketball team followed their lead before joining them at the barre, looking around nervously.

“Now, as I’m sure you all remember, we have the Grant High basketball team with us for the next month. I trust you’ll all be very courteous to them and set good examples as they study the art of ballet with us. Ladies, take your spots at the barre, please.”

The class lined up at the barres, awaiting further instruction.

“Alright, simple beginning. Two tendus devant, seconde, and derriere, then seconde again. Demi demi grande plies from first, second, and fifth. Long hold in fifth relevé, turn, hold on the other side. Then repeat the combo on the left. Good?” The ballerinas all nodded as the basketball players simply looked on in confusion. Madame Pullman signaled to the piano player, who began a soft melody.

“One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight. Hit the downbeats, ladies. Faster, ladies! The company does not want to sign ballerinas with no sense of rhythm. And my basketball players- you have to be agile and flexible to be a good player.”

“God, why are we even here?” a Grant student grumbled. Madame Pullman raised her eyebrow, signaling the piano player to stop.

“Why are you here, you ask? Lucy Kippen, would you care to demonstrate why we are here today?” Madame Pullman asked.

“Of course.”

“Barres to the sides, please, ladies. We will have a center class today. Lucy, your pointe shoes.”

“What variation would you like, Madame?” Lucy asked, sitting to pull on her shoes She pulled her tights off her feet, wincing at the blisters and blood she found.

“Notice, ladies, that Ms. Kippen’s feet are bloodied, blistered, and bruised. There is a reason she is top ballerina here at SAB, and her feet tell the story. And Lucy? Queen of the Dryads.”

“Of course,” Lucy said, lacing her shoes. She pulled on a practice tutu and took her place in the corner of the room.

“Watch closely, basketball players. And ballerinas, put on your pointe shoes,” Madame Pullman said, sliding a CD into the stereo at the corner of the room and pressing play. Lucy plastered on a smile, though not before staring down the apathetic basketball players.

“Watch the amount of strength and grace with which she attacks the steps. Technically, artistically, and emotionally perfect. We are here to study strength, discipline, and perseverance. This is not a game of win or lose, as you may be used to. Ballet, ladies, is a game only comprised of winning. You must win, or you are not truly a ballerina. In basketball, there is always the promise of another game. If you lose, you will always be able to come back. You are here today to understand how it feels to never have another chance.

“Students, please join Lucy as she performs the Kitri Act III variation.” Madame Pullman switched the song, standing back and watching the ballerinas scurry to pull on their tutus and rush to the center. “Basketball players. These girls have one chance to get into the company of their dreams. One sickled foot, one rolled ankle, one too low arabesque, one imperfect step, and everything comes crashing down over them. Only two girls in this entire year should expect contracts with the company. If we’re lucky, one girl will someday become principal dancer. Statistically, it is impossible to make it as a ballerina. And yet here we are. Grant students, follow my students’ lead.”

The basketball players all moved into lines behind the ballerinas. They slowly began to follow, clumsily mimicking the way they danced.

“Ms. Driscoll, does that look like a clean line to you?” Madame Pullman asked, adjusting Buffy’s leg. “Support your standing leg more, dear. You look like you’re going to fall into Ms. Jackson at any second. Find your centers, girls! I do not want dominoes of dancers!”

Lucy gracefully finished the variation, looking to Madame Pullman for further instruction.

“Piques across the floor, please. Groups of three.” Lucy nodded, grabbing Amber and pushing in front of everyone else to be the first pair.

“Madame, can we be a pair of two?” Amber asked.

“Of course. Everyone else, I expect groups of three. Amber and Lucy, go ahead.”

“Why do they get to be a pair?” Buffy asked, turning to the ballerina she was in a group with.

“They’re the two who are bound for the company. Madame Pullman doesn’t put them with others unless she has to; she wants them to focus on ballet only,” the girl responded, sticking her hand out to shake Buffy’s. “I’m Iris.”

“Buffy… Would you by any chance be Iris McNamara?”

“Yeah?”

“Cyrus Goodman is my best friend. He’s told Andi and I about you.”

“Ah. Yeah, he’s told me about you two.”

“Hang on, if everyone knows Amber and Lucy are going to be signed, why are you guys still here?”

“Because we’re ballerinas. And we love what we do. And we paid a lot to be here. And we’re praying for an injury.”

“Wait- you want each other to get hurt?”

“...Kind of? We want everyone else to drop out of the running. Injured, quitting, running out of money, or just getting worse over time.”

“Ms. McNamara, Ms. Driscoll. No side conversations.”

“Yes, Madame Pullman,” Iris said, starting across the floor. They quickly finished the turning sequence, Buffy bumping into Lucy when the latter stopped quickly.

“Watch it, Driscoll,” Lucy snapped, glaring at them.

“Are they always like this?” Buffy asked.

“Oh, yeah. All three.”

“Three?”

“Yeah, they’re triplets. TJ just isn’t in a girls’ class, for obvious reasons.”

“And they’re all like that?”

“Oh, yeah. They’re complete bullies. I’d step around them while you’re here. The rest of us do, anyway.”

“Are they- are they mean to Cyrus?” Buffy asked quietly.

“They’re mean to everyone who isn’t bound for the company. And considering the fact that they’re the only ones who are pretty much guaranteed to get a contract, yeah. I wouldn’t worry about it, Cyrus is a good dancer. He’s got thick skin.”

“Alright ladies, good job. To the center for petit allegro. You know the combination. Grant students, follow along. We’ll do it four times on each side.”

“Four?” someone asked.

“Would you like it to be five? Get to it, ladies.” The piano player started a jaunty, challenging piece. “I want to see strong glissades, and even stronger pas de chats!”

Class lasted an hour after that; the girls were all drenched in sweat by the time they were dismissed. 

“C’mon, we should get cleaned up and changed. It’s… noon. Half an hour until variations,” Lucy said, pulling Amber out of the room and rushing to the locker rooms. They both switched into white leotards and skirts, re-spraying their hair and rushing back out of the locker room.

“Hey!” TJ called from behind them.

“Teej!” Amber said, grinning at him. “How was weight training?”

“Boring, easy. The Goodman kid dropped one of his weights once, though. It was hilarious. I have technique now with Foreman. You?”

“We’ve got variations with Petrov. And the Grant High team - they’re awful, Jesus,” Amber said.

“It’s so ridiculous that we have to deal with them,” Lucy said, purposefully getting louder as they passed Buffy and the team. “Some of us actually deserve corrections. Why are they training with Advanced D? They’d probably do better with Girls Prep.”

“Honestly,” Amber agreed, shoving past Buffy with her shoulder. “Aren’t they only here because they keep losing?”

“See you later,” TJ said, nodding toward his room as Amber and Buffy started up the stairs. “Good luck with the losing team!”

“Lunch at 2:30?” Amber asked.

“Yep!” TJ called, sliding into his class with a sigh.

“Ready to watch the team absolutely butcher Kitri?” Lucy asked, grinning at Amber.

“Only if you’re ready to watch them fall out of every single they attempt,” Amber joked, looking pointedly over her shoulder at Buffy as she came up the stairs behind them

“Oh, definitely.” 

Lucy winked at Amber, dropping the pair of pointe shoes in her hand and watching out of the corner of her eye as they tumbled down the stairs and smashed into Buffy’s toes. She turned around, letting Buffy hand her the pair.

“Oh, sorry,” she said, sarcasm dripping from her voice. “My mistake.”

**Author's Note:**

> ...i made another fic
> 
> i have nothing to say for myself


End file.
